Knocking on the Door Towards Tomorrow
by Pico Pico Noriko-chan
Summary: Five years post-Voldemort, Harry's life has been turned upside down. With his and Draco's break-up, Harry goes to America to hide and Draco goes to Japan to become a singer. However, Severus has fallen ill and the two meet again. Will the sparks be there?


Title: Knocking on the Door Towards Tomorrow

Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter despite my fantasies that I do

Warning: Male x Male

Summary: Five years post-Voldemort's defeat, Harry's life has been turned upside down. With his and Draco's break-up, Harry goes to America to hide and Draco goes to Japan to become a singer. However, Severus has fallen ill with a magical ailment and the two meet again. Will the sparks still be there?

Chapter One- On this Cross

"_You're running." Those cold, slate-blue eyes harshly stared at him, the storm clouds brewing into typhoon proportions. "You always run." That honeyed voice accused, dripping with malice, pity and somewhere in the depths of the euphonious tone, there was concern. The concern was deep-rooted and nearly hidden in the depths of the young man's soul. "When things don't go your way, you hide. You don't think I've noticed?" A mocking laugh, lapis eyes turning gray as the clouds domineered. "In case you haven't realized, I notice everything about you, Harry Potter."_

"_I don't understand you Draco." Harry turned around to stare at Draco, shaking his head. A strong fist clenched. "You made me a promise that as soon as I killed Voldemort, we'd tell everyone that we're together! It's been nearly a year. It's about time we let them know." Vivid, radiant emerald green eyes were full of emotion as they met the calm, neutral silver ones. "I'm not running, Draco. I'm saving my sanity. I hate not being able to tell my friends about us. They deserve to know and more than that, **I** deserve to not have to keep us a secret."_

"_Harry," that voice, so patient and full of love yet so full of scorn and contempt. "The world will not understand. You've been martyred as the savior of the entire planet. You're on a pedestal, you can't let your fans know that you're a fag. How many people do you think will understand that you prefer men to women?" Thin lips curled into a sneer. "You think your little friends won't have any prejudices against you?" Draco scoffed. "You **know** they will. The Weasley's loathe queers; mostly based on the fact that they love Muggles and the try to imitate their way of life. And Hermione? She was raised as one. She might be smart but she's not going to just put aside everything she was taught in that sheltered life of hers before she discovered she could do magic. The ranks of wizards are so infiltrated with the blood of Muggles, you'd be hard-pressed to find **any **wizard that doesn't agree with their views on homosexuality. Oh, and have you considered who exactly your lover is? The only son of Voldemort's second. There are plenty out there who think I'm a carven copy of Lucius."_

"_But you're not!" Harry yelled passionately. "They'll see that too!" The hero of the world fell to his knees, holding his head in his hands, trying his hardest not to convulse. "I don't care what they think. I only want us to be together. You're the only one who ever saw me for who I actually was. You're the only reason I even defeated Voldemort when I did. If it wasn't for you," Harry stubbornly wiped his eyes, ignoring the tears. Warm arms enfolded him, clasping him to a sleek chest. "Why do you hurt me? Do you like it?"_

"_Of course not," Draco whispered, hands tangling into disheveled sable locks. "I used to, back before I beat some sense into myself about you. I don't trust people, don't trust what they might do to you. Can you really handle being hated? Don't even answer that. You have a soft heart. That's what I hate the most about you." Draco sighed, wiping the tears on Harry's cheeks aside. "It'll be just you and me, Harry. You want your life to revolve around me?"_

"_It already does. Why do you think I'll be hated for who I am?"_

"_Because of who **I** am. There are gays within the wizard community, just like there are gays in the Muggle world but they live normal lives; school, work, movies, mini-holiday's, et cetera. **You're** Harry Potter. Everyone knows who you are. You can't even walk down the street without being recognized. Just like you're known for heroics, I'm known for my infamy. I've been in Azkaban, my family was one of **his** most loyal supporter, I'm a known murderer, a known rapist, a known psycho that suffers from manic-depressiveness, schizophrenia, paranoia, and bi-polar disorders. Do you want me to continue?"_

"_But none of that matters!" Harry growled, lifting his head from Draco's chest. "I wish you'd get over it. I **love **you. Nothing's ever going to change that. I wish you'd just give us the benefit of the doubt. So what, what the world thinks. It's our business what we do in our personal life. Are you willing to just give up on us? On all that we've built in these past three years?"_

_Draco rose to his feet. "I don't want to but if I must, I will. If you proceed with your ludicrous notion of acceptability by those idiots, then so be it. The question is, Harry, do **you** want to give up on us?" Draco gave Harry one last withering glance before shouldering his bag and walking out of the door and out of Harry's life._

Harry frowned, resting his head against the window pane of the metro. Five whole years since that night. Five years of loneliness and bitterness that had very nearly ended Harry's life several times if only he wasn't pulled from the brink of death by Draco's voice; that dulcet voice that even now haunted his mind. He was twenty-five and life had returned to normal. Well, as close to normal as they could be. He still had nightmares regarding Voldemort, even nightmares regarding Draco. He blamed himself for his miserable state; if he had only realized exactly what Draco had been trying to tell him in the past then perhaps, they might have still been a together. Now, the only times Harry ever heard about Draco was through the news and magazines.

Draco Malfoy, a success in the music industry. A demon with the voice of an angel. Beautiful, charismatic, sultry, and with enough personal problems to lend a hand to his ever-growing legion of fans. Harry hadn't been surprised that Draco had moved from England; he was a celebrity in Japan. His appearance immediately had him signed to dozens of modeling agencies and when the geniuses behind Shining Productions heard the siren's voice, well, Draco's popularity in the East ascended to phenomenal highs. Draco's affluent linguistic capabilities hatched his career; a translator was never needed. Harry was proud of Draco for finally finding a place he could belong, a place where he wouldn't be misunderstood. Draco was still remembered in Europe by those who went to school with him and fought in the War but, for the rest, life had returned to normal and Draco's name was forgotten; a page in a history text that had suddenly disappeared.

It was unhealthy, Harry knew, to still obsess over Draco. He had every album Draco had ever released, every magazine featuring him, every calendar...everything regarding his former lover. Draco was an addiction. He had been when they first met all of those years ago. Then, it had been arguing and glares that had fueled Harry's addiction but as time passed, Harry began to feel more than rivalry and hate. He had felt a gnawing affection for the other boy. The affection eventually turned into the soul-searing love that the poets yammered about incessantly in their romantic drivels.

As for Harry, he had left England as well. Mostly because the country reminded him of Draco and there was the little fact that he was too recognizable. In America, he rarely had that problem. There were a few instances when he would be questioned if he was related to Harry Potter due to his remarkable resemblance to the savior of the world. Harry smirked, tracing his reflection in the glass. Yes, coming to America had been the wisest and safest choice. He'd altered his appearance to discourage being known. The scar on his forehead was covered with enough foundation that he often forgot it was there. His dark hair went blonde, his green eyes went blue. His disguise was good, it fooled everyone. If only he could fool himself into believing that he actually was his alias; James Black, college graduate with a degree in the arts. He often taught classes at the local elementary schools and volunteered his free time at some of the shelters for children.

Harry had never told another soul that he was gay or about him and Draco. It was his own secret that he intended to keep for life. He was lonely. He could not deny that. In the three years since his and Draco's split, he had never once ventured into another relationship. It would not have been fair to call out another's name in the middle of coitus, to forever imagine another holding you. It was difficult to spend every waking and sleeping second alone. He missed the feelings of joy upon seeing his lover's face in the morning, to feel those protective arms wrapped around him at night. Maybe, he just didn't want to lose the only part of himself that ultimately belonged to Draco; his heart. Maybe, had he some fleeting notion that Draco would come back to him but, that was a pleasant fiction. After all, Draco's goodbye had been final. Harry didn't want to live in secrecy and Draco did. That was all she wrote.

Harry ignored the people pushing past as the metro came to a halt, passengers disembarking in a flurried frenzy. New York, the City of Dreams or more accurate; the City of Masks. Everyone wore a mask there, most people came there for that very reason; to be forgotten. Harry slipped through the throngs of people, heading above ground and towards his apartment on 27th street. He'd been fortunate to even have the flat but the gold from his vaults at Gringott's was more than able to fully pay for his apartment and with enough spending money to keep him set for life. The building was in a modest neighborhood with enough entertainment to keep even the most dull person busy. Harry rarely partook in the whole social scene. When he did, it was to dance. Dancing kept his worries from surfacing and he was able to lose himself in the music. He drank from time to time but that usually made him feel twenty times as worse about himself. There were plenty of parks for him to pass the time in. His favorite pastime was to walk around one of the parks for hours, just content to be tranquil with nature.

The doorman smiled at him cheerfully and Harry couldn't help but be infected by the man's happy demeanor as he returned the grin albeit less exaltedly. "Good afternoon, Mister Black. Has the day been treating you well?" Harry nodded. "I'm glad. This was supposed to be a surprise but I figured you would want to know. A friend of yours is waiting for you. He told me that you hadn't seen him years and I felt it necessary to allow him to go ahead without your approval."

"Who is he?" Harry asked, voice merely a hoarse whisper, his stomach knotting tightly.

"Remus Lupin. A rather odd name so I knew I'd remember it. Uh, sir?"

Harry felt the color return to his face. It wasn't Draco after all. Who was he fooling? Draco didn't even know he was in America, let alone knew where he lived. "Thank you, Douglas." Harry slightly tilted his head in acknowledgement before racing to the elevator. Remus Lupin? What in the world was he doing at here and more importantly, why? Had something terrible happened in England? Were his friends alright? Harry didn't have time to ruminate as he was suddenly knocked onto the floor by his godfather.

"Sirius?! What are you doing here?! Where's Remus?" Harry inquired, eyes widening as Sirius nearly chocked him to death. This was too surreal. Sirius wasn't supposed to be there. Not that he minded seeing his surrogate father. "Sirius?"

Sirius held Harry at arms length, critically examining him. "You look a little thin. Have you been eating right?" Harry nodded, tongue-tied. "Hn, that's what America does to you. Makes you thin. Stupid cunts," Sirius growled. "You been doing good?"

"Yes but...why are you here?"

"I hardly think we should postpone the news, Sirius," Remus's voice floated from inside Harry's flat.

Harry's brows knitted. "News? What the hell is going on?! I haven't seen either of you for three years and you suddenly show up like two bats out of hell. What's happened that I need to know about? That_is _the reason you're here, isn't it?"

"You might want to sit down," Remus said, eyes betraying the worry that was absent in his voice. Harry obliged, taking a seat on the leather loveseat facing his only family. "I'm not going to small talk you. I'm going to come out and say it. Severus Snape is dying."

"Wh...what?!"

"It's true." Remus frowned, exhaling a deep breath he'd been holding. "I know this must be a shock for you. Severus always wore an invisible cloak around him, keeping him from being hurt by anything but apparently, we all have been deluding ourselves. He has an affliction that is rare in wizard's and it's highly untreatable. It's called _Mors Mortis per Venenum Sanguis. _In other words, the blood poison that causes death. I know this must come as a shock to you. I'm very sorry."

Harry held his head in his hands, disbelieving that his mentor and closest friend could be dieing. They'd abhorred each other for the longest time but once the real threat of Voldemort settled in destroying the fiction Harry had contrived, Severus became the only one that Harry could trust; besides Draco. "What does it do, exactly?"

Remus and Sirius shared a look. "Severus's magic is turning on him. His magic is having the reverse affect. Instead of prolonging his life, it's rapidly shortening it. He's taking it with a cynical smile on his face." Remus laughed. "Only he could face death with that attitude."

Harry smiled, imagining Severus. "Then, he's not afraid?"

"Snape? Afraid?" Sirius scoffed. "You should know better than anyone that that idiot's afraid of nothing."

"Still hate him even now, eh, Siri?" Harry chuckled, rising to his feet and staring from the window at the gorgeous view. "I take it you want me to come home? It's not going to happen. When I left England, I left for good. Severus will be fine without me there by his side. I don't want to watch him die. I doubt my sanity could handle it."

"Please, Harry?" Remus placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "He needs you. _We_ need you. Severus is going to need someone when the time becomes short, someone he trusts more than anyone. As insane as it is to admit; _you _are the only one." Remus removed his hand, admiring the vast scenery before him. "I'm not going to force you to come but you need to consider something; wouldn't he do the same for you? Hermione's going to try and convince you to become the next Potions professor."

"I won't do it. I don't care that she's the headmistress. Hogwart's isn't the same without Albus or Minerva there. You actually think I'd _enjoy_ being back there once Severus is dead? Sirius is always busy with his duties for Arthur and you're busy teaching your own classes. As for the rest of them, hell no. I couldn't teach classes with everyone hero worshipping me."

"Oh. I see. If it's any consolation, most of your old friends are already there. Quite a few have jobs at Hogwart's. The Muggle world was just too much for them and they couldn't change their ways as wizards. In fact, Draco's scheduled to make an appearance sometime soon. He's already gave the go ahead that he'd be there to be with Severus. I thought with the two of you being old friends, you might do each other a world of good once Severus is gone. Are you going to come?"

Harry's heart leapt into his throat. Draco? At Hogwart's? Wasn't he afraid of the shunning he'd receive from those who fought in the War? Didn't he knew that Remus was asking Harry to join them? Did Draco have any inkling of an idea as to what was happening? Harry felt himself nod. He was returning to the place he'd wanted to forget and the reason for forgetting would be there to either greet him or ignore him.


End file.
